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DoC to Extend ICANN's Control of IANA

Luminous Coward writes "I first saw this on The Register. Kevin Murphy of Computerwire reports: The US Department of Commerce last week quietly published a document detailing its decision to "sole-source" the contract for the so-called IANA (Internet Assigned Numbers Authority) function to ICANN, as opposed to opening the contract for competitive bidding. ICANNWatch explains why this is a bad idea. They also report that the ccTLDs and the Internet Multicasting Service have expressed interest in running IANA."

535 comments

  1. IANA CLIT by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1

    but i'll FP anyhow

  2. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+496 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    26089

    1. Re:Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1

      You drooling fucking prick, get a life you sad sack of shit.

    2. Re:Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1

      As I post this there are 459 posts at -1 and 21 at zero or above.

      I salute you. You rock.

  3. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+256 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    841

  4. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+114 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    29027

  5. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+929 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    412

  6. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+904 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    29418

  7. ICANN IANAL IANA by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1
  8. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+866 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    27446

  9. Settle down by rw2 · · Score: 1

    Look, you can see by my sig that I'm as into a good political mud slinging contest as anyone, but less face the facts here. This is not a big deal. Things could be better, but it would be a .1% improvement, not a huge earth-shaking event.

    Let's concentrate on the things that really matter folks.

  10. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+403 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    395

  11. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+936 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14412

  12. Well... by cK-Gunslinger · · Score: 5, Funny

    IANAL, but if ICANN takes control of IANA, then the ccTLDs just SOL and the IMS are FUBAR'd, IMHO.

    1. Re:Well... by JUSTONEMORELATTE · · Score: 1

      Where's IIRCAFAIKIANAL when you need him?

    2. Re:Well... by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      Yes, but I'm very H-A-P-P-Y to be here today.

  13. Quality Crapflooding by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1, Troll

    I haven't seen such a wonderful crapflood since Klerck's page-widening-and-lengthening posts!

  14. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+787 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22490

  15. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+184 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    30070

  16. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+055 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17810

  17. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+137 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17156

  18. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+182 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8433

  19. Linux? by Amsterdam+Vallon · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    OK, Slashteam, can't we just edit the comments.pl file to block comments with the subjet "Death By A Thousand CLITs!!"?

    I mean, seriously, blocking by IP address isn't going to work because I can tell that they're probably using some script/program to flood the site and have a file of proxy servers with which to utilize.

    --

    Reply or e-mail; don't vaguely moderate. Ex-O'Reilly/MIT employee, now a full-time Google employee.
  20. Power Grab by sstamps · · Score: 5, Interesting

    IANA and the RIRs are pretty much the last vestiges of the "independent Internet" authorities as we know them. Once ICANN gets their grubby hands on IANA, I think the final nail is in the coffin of the "free (as in speech) Internet".

    What part of this does anyone NOT see as hideously WRONG?! Every day, another domino falls, and I feel more and more like a slave to the Pharoahs of Washington D.C. Is there nothing left for us to do except just sit the hell down and accept our yoke of submission like a good little peon?

    What banner do we have that the vast majority of us can rally under to stop this stupidity? I mean, we all pay lip service to "supporting the cause", but action is pretty thin right now. I'm one to talk, too. :(

    --
    -SS "Teach the ignorant, care for the dumb, and punish the stupid."
    1. Re:Power Grab by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      It's called a slippery slope.

    2. Re:Power Grab by NoTheory · · Score: 3, Insightful

      Perspective is a funny thing. What can be classified as "life threatening" depends highly on the level of integration of whatever technology we happen to be discussing. Since computer networking, and in particular global networking has become so vital to the economies of the world (and hell, life as we know it. I met my g/f online first, long before we met face to face), it is not surprising that the people who are currently in power wish to make sure they have a firm hold on it. But, as always, government control does cut both ways. So is it life threatening? No. Is it threatening to way of life? Perhaps.

      --
      There are lives at stake here!
    3. Re:Power Grab by rabidcow · · Score: 3, Insightful

      Its just a couple computers strung together with some wire, air waves, and carrying a few bits.

      The printing press only produced a bunch of letters on paper, and look what it has achieved. Don't trivialize communication.

    4. Re:Power Grab by wfrp01 · · Score: 1

      What the hell are you getting inflamed about?

      It's just someone posting their thoughts on /., an activity certainly much less significant than the activities of IANA.

      Don't you think it's maybe a little ironic to passionately object to someone feeling passionately about something?

      A little perspective maybe.

      Moreover, the numbers are not pretend or unimportant. Notwithstanding your intentional mischaracterization, I'm sure you know that. A power grab is a power grab is a power grab. Myself, I passionately object to that kind of bad behavior.

      --

      --Lawrence Lessig for Congress!
  21. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+738 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19840

  22. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+624 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    24151

  23. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+031 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11015

  24. I sense a 180 coming up by unitron · · Score: 3, Funny

    Whatta ya bet Dyson's gonna try to jump back on the ICANN bandwagon she just jumped off of?

    --

    I see even classic Slashdot is now pretty much unusable on dial up anymore.

  25. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+067 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2027

  26. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+906 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7494

  27. Linux? by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1

    This doesn't have a damned thing to do with the subject, I just wanted to beat that other fool to it.

  28. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+302 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    24507

  29. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+253 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8447

  30. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+471 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19924

  31. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+448 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7666

  32. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+413 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3326

  33. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+914 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11845

  34. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+751 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3655

  35. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+832 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16225

  36. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+724 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    21018

  37. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+919 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12756

  38. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+865 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22808

  39. Maybe the best solution by haplo21112 · · Score: 3, Interesting

    Perhaps its time that the running of the internet be taken out of any one nations hands. Perhaps the correct solution is to no longer leave the controlling body's in the hands of the US. Perhaps the running of the internet should become a United Nations function?

    --
    Power Corrupts,Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely, leaving one person(group)in charge is absolutely corrupt.
    1. Re:Maybe the best solution by Elwood+P+Dowd · · Score: 4, Interesting

      Perhaps its time that the running of the internet be taken out of any one nations hands. Perhaps the correct solution is to no longer leave the controlling body's in the hands of the US. Perhaps the running of the internet should become a United Nations function?

      It is perfectly clear that no body whatsoever should be in control of the internet. ICANN holds no enforceable positions. They don't sway judges. They are in control because all the large companies that do the business of running the net are in control of ICANN. So long as those large companies all operate under the ICANN rules, then it's as if ICANN rules the net. There's no way to force them to rock the boat at ICANN except to take away your dollars.

      I think the only important thing to do is remove public funding of ICANN. Once Verisign/Worldcom/Whoever has to run ICANN on their own dime, then we won't have this kind of confusion. If they want to keep public funding of ICANN, then they better damn well make *every* seat open to public elections.

      --

      There are no trails. There are no trees out here.
    2. Re:Maybe the best solution by stickman19 · · Score: 0, Flamebait

      Well if the UN took over the internet the French would want to run it and if security of the DNS servers and other Net backbones was anything like the French army would the sys admins just surrender all the servers to hackers/crackers?

    3. Re:Maybe the best solution by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      You are absolutely correct. Because to truly and utterly mire something in red tape you need the UN to do it.

      In an organization where the Libyans chair the Human Rights Committee, and the Iraquis the chair the disarmament committee I can only wonder how the Internet Committee would turn out.

    4. Re:Maybe the best solution by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0, Troll

      > Perhaps the running of the internet should
      > become a United Nations function?

      That's a negative, 18-Wheeler...

      Before we did that I would rather see the United
      States cut it's Internet links to the rest of the
      world and go it alone. Really, we don't need the
      rest of the world. In fact, we'd probably be a
      lot better off as our networks and computers
      would be a lot less congested.

    5. Re:Maybe the best solution by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0, Troll

      The UN: The organization whose "Human Rights" committee is chaired by a nation involved in slave trading.

    6. Re:Maybe the best solution by Mr.+Slippery · · Score: 5, Insightful
      Perhaps the running of the internet should become a United Nations function?

      I was just thinking that perhaps it should be handed over to the ITU. If they can get the world's phone systems talking to one another, the Internet should be a piece of cake in comparison. (You ever look at telephony protocols? You don't want to. Trust me.)

      --
      Tom Swiss | the infamous tms | my blog
      You cannot wash away blood with blood
    7. Re:Maybe the best solution by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      This got an insightful???

      Maybe there really is no hope for you guys :-(

    8. Re:Maybe the best solution by Slashed+Otter · · Score: 1

      I think the only important thing to do is remove public funding of ICANN.

      Yeah, like ICANN couldn't find a way to support itself financially. How much could they get for a custom TLD? How much could they get for a /16? or /8?

      Any organization that runs the internet will never be beholden to the U.S. taxpayer for financial support. They'll find a way to extort whatever the funds they need from whoever wants to maintain the status quo.

      What should happen is for the world's telecom companies to take a proactive approach to the internet...form their own international body to be in charge of assigning IPs. Since they control the backbones of the internet, they'll be no one to stop them. Since they control everyone's access to the internet, they'll be able to gain control without the average internet user even noticing. All the IANA does is just dole out large chunks of IPs to the telecom companies anyways, why not eliminate the middle man?

    9. Re:Maybe the best solution by rhizome · · Score: 1

      Yeah, ITU...great idea. Let us all harken back to that Simpsons episode where the smart people are put in charge of the town. Meanwhile, if you read the article cited you will come across a URL. A URL that says a little something about why the ITU wouldn't necessarily be a good idea. Maybe you could check it out?

      --
      When I was a kid, we only had one Darth.
    10. Re:Maybe the best solution by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      You mean the fat bureaucratic geniuses behind OSI? Enjoy paying per-packet, bitch.

      It astounds me that, on a subthread complaining about political corruption of Internet admistration, that someone would mention ITU. Instead of a bunch of old Friends-of-Postal, you get the Spanish Prime Minister's retarded third cousin. Whoopie.

    11. Re:Maybe the best solution by mpe · · Score: 1

      Perhaps its time that the running of the internet be taken out of any one nations hands. Perhaps the correct solution is to no longer leave the controlling body's in the hands of the US.

      A big part of the problem is overuse of gTLDs resulting in a hierarchical naming system being used as though it is a few flat namespaces. A DNS name is functionally similar to a telephone number or a postal address.

      Perhaps the running of the internet should become a United Nations function?

      When the US government is doing it now? You're joking, right?

    12. Re:Maybe the best solution by mpe · · Score: 1

      I was just thinking that perhaps it should be handed over to the ITU [itu.int]. If they can get the world's phone systems talking to one another, the Internet should be a piece of cake in comparison. (You ever look at telephony protocols? You don't want to. Trust me.)

      The telephone protocols having the extra complication that you have a situation of NANP and rest of the planet. Which somehow have to manage to interconnect.

    13. Re:Maybe the best solution by mpe · · Score: 1

      In an organization where the Libyans chair the Human Rights Committee, and the Iraquis the chair the disarmament committee I can only wonder how the Internet Committee would turn out.

      Well the worst it could be would be run by the same bunch as it is now...

  40. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+042 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20649

  41. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+576 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4364

  42. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+465 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    26414

  43. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+526 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    26057

  44. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+318 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7125

  45. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+645 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    27382

  46. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+980 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10484

  47. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+898 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    1894

  48. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+243 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    30110

  49. Linux? by SweetAndSourJesus · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    OK, Slashteam, can't we just edit the comments.pl file to block comments with the subject "Linux?"?

    I mean, seriously, modding him down isn't going to work because I can tell that a moderator is just going to mod anything containing the word "linux" up.

    --

    --
    the strongest word is still the word "free"
  50. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+508 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    29646

  51. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+940 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    27940

  52. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+697 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10106

  53. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+189 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    865

  54. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+486 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    26165

  55. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+956 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13350

  56. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+524 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    25963

  57. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+316 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4892

  58. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+889 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    21196

  59. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+841 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6025

  60. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+181 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23669

  61. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+367 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11543

  62. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+269 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4602

  63. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+317 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12876

  64. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+062 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20886

  65. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+520 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    21200

  66. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+347 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19919

  67. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+224 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    1537

  68. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+997 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12245

  69. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+943 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16841

  70. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+552 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    30521

  71. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+298 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    25776

  72. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+350 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    18638

  73. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+859 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13169

  74. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+314 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20394

  75. Ruination... by este · · Score: 2, Interesting

    It seems ICANN is headed the way of so many other organizations that have forged a "special" relationship wih the givernment. Inevitably, we've all seen how this type of government-backed exclusivity causes the organization to ge just plain lazy, since they're not under pressure to perform if they're under contract. Why the DoC's huge interest in securing this setup? I bet it's not arbitrary....

    BTW, -CLIT-.......slashdot has a neat section that features writing reviews.....review yourself, and post your story accordingly. Or face the bitch-slap of moderation, killing your karma forever. ::este::

    --
    [este]
    1. Re:Ruination... by govtcheez · · Score: 1

      Anyone posting that many times doesn't care about karma... Besides "killing your karma forever" is a litle melodramatic. I went from terrible karma to good karma in 2 days last week...

    2. Re:Ruination... by grub · · Score: -1, Offtopic


      BTW, -CLIT-.......slashdot has a neat section that features writing reviews.....review yourself, and post your story accordingly. Or face the bitch-slap of moderation, killing your karma forever.

      You're just jealous that Ike Thomas didn't fancy you as much as the lad in the story.

      --
      Trolling is a art,
    3. Re:Ruination... by Roofus · · Score: -1, Offtopic
      BTW, -CLIT-.......slashdot has a neat section that features writing reviews.....review yourself, and post your story accordingly. Or face the bitch-slap of moderation, killing your karma forever.


      In case you haven't noticed, this dick is using a different account for every one of the 400+ posts he's made in this thread. He must have written up some auto-posting script. Probably in Perl, which is why it should be outlawed! =)

    4. Re:Ruination... by este · · Score: 1

      Think outside the box. There's more to he world than /.

      --
      [este]
    5. Re:Ruination... by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      I hear that... even Klerck is posting with positive karma... how did that happen???

  76. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+411 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3083

  77. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+452 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    25148

  78. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+174 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    15455

  79. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+663 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20724

  80. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+706 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    24999

  81. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+376 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    25341

  82. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+099 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    21407

  83. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+529 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3682

  84. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+292 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    31141

  85. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+382 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14328

  86. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+953 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17367

  87. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+001 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22866

  88. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+280 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10796

  89. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+408 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5444

  90. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+193 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    18122

  91. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+353 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5152

  92. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+287 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4780

  93. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+542 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    1497

  94. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+884 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2579

  95. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+629 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8880

  96. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+975 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    9209

  97. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+741 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8774

  98. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+163 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7879

  99. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+876 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11374

  100. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+182 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11976

  101. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+492 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23415

  102. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+466 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    18419

  103. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+664 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14210

  104. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+753 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11835

  105. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+791 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    9055

  106. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+359 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5582

  107. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+695 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    15844

  108. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+505 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    25688

  109. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+167 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2039

  110. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+130 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5317

  111. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+618 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12961

  112. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+746 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7861

  113. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+289 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    18069

  114. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+699 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5594

  115. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+249 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6763

  116. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+770 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2006

  117. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+241 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14366

  118. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+610 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23865

  119. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+613 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3162

  120. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+444 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13111

  121. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+826 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    24180

  122. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+038 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17173

  123. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+222 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    28598

  124. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+503 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4803

  125. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+848 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    267

  126. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+266 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13592

  127. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+349 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    15801

  128. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+868 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16484

  129. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+011 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3103

  130. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+018 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    15145

  131. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+930 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    18996

  132. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+281 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4471

  133. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+150 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    18210

  134. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+593 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3563

  135. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+659 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8114

  136. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+929 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6137

  137. Good idea... bordering on brilliant by unicorn · · Score: 3, Insightful

    Because god knows the UN has proven to be a wise organization, capable of managing almost all the worlds affairs. Preserving peace, etc. And nobody would ever dare to do things that would go against UN decisions, or would sidestep the UN entirely.

    --
    "Politicians are interested in people. Not that this is always a virtue. Fleas are interested in dogs." P.J. O'Rourke
  138. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+435 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2334

  139. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+478 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8017

  140. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+417 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    21530

  141. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+602 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10989

  142. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+576 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19378

  143. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+072 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2756

  144. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+014 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12738

  145. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+303 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23552

  146. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+128 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    29633

  147. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+831 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2540

  148. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+554 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19657

  149. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+574 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    15843

  150. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+675 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8047

  151. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+019 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6027

  152. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+485 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23689

  153. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+531 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13301

  154. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+838 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23194

  155. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+166 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16317

  156. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+311 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13416

  157. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+420 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    706

  158. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+560 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    26962

  159. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+395 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    27063

  160. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+909 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6918

  161. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+300 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    26377

  162. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+605 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    21252

  163. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+806 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10125

  164. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+250 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12265

  165. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+653 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8183

  166. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+153 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13136

  167. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+952 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    18181

  168. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+516 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23227

  169. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+645 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19301

  170. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+671 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8160

  171. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+536 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11336

  172. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+948 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11487

  173. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+665 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11277

  174. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+136 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    18954

  175. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+139 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11814

  176. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+342 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12395

  177. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+940 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    26357

  178. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+633 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7563

  179. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+344 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11575

  180. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+983 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20820

  181. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+463 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23245

  182. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+373 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    481

  183. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+776 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    31086

  184. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+718 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    682

  185. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+299 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6874

  186. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+459 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    9145

  187. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+674 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2098

  188. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+937 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20963

  189. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+834 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20599

  190. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+312 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11963

  191. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+306 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11401

  192. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+842 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    15865

  193. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+295 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    26742

  194. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+236 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22298

  195. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+837 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23597

  196. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+468 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4169

  197. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+280 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13877

  198. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+261 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    29588

  199. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+159 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7027

  200. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+084 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6783

  201. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+650 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19594

  202. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+209 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6415

  203. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+100 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17553

  204. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+861 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7017

  205. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+630 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13166

  206. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+874 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23566

  207. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+248 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    27605

  208. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+812 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    9909

  209. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+099 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19676

  210. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+278 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22980

  211. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+537 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17754

  212. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by carpe_noctem · · Score: 1

    Damn. Couldn't have put it better myself.

    --
    "Quoting famous computer scientists out of context is the root of all evil (or at least most of it) in programming." - K
  213. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+783 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4116

  214. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+392 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    9163

  215. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+853 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11761

  216. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+498 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12789

  217. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+803 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    9903

  218. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+004 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    30834

  219. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+047 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2238

  220. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+571 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6799

  221. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+924 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    18967

  222. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+008 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    28397

  223. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+335 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22861

  224. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+910 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11227

  225. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+142 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14116

  226. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+892 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    137

  227. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+302 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12661

  228. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+486 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    25676

  229. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+697 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2632

  230. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+033 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    18530

  231. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+393 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4500

  232. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+430 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2937

  233. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+998 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7290

  234. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+055 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    28734

  235. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+746 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10466

  236. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+638 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3743

  237. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+584 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23743

  238. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+819 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20670

  239. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+406 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7452

  240. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+886 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    30331

  241. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+972 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8028

  242. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+058 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14869

  243. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+754 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7062

  244. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+907 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19402

  245. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+038 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    28007

  246. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+997 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7002

  247. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+962 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23072

  248. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+794 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10463

  249. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+410 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    28124

  250. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+358 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11950

  251. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+691 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11661

  252. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+127 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20806

  253. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+557 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10651

  254. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+830 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16782

  255. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+840 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20518

  256. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+527 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    29996

  257. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+779 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    15228

  258. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+759 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5793

  259. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+804 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    15829

  260. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+863 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    29203

  261. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+440 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6924

  262. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+407 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23034

  263. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+573 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13260

  264. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+689 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4293

  265. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+103 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20716

  266. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+758 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    34

  267. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+615 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22937

  268. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+068 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2170

  269. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+156 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    24240

  270. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+797 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16677

  271. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+451 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3419

  272. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+786 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    26560

  273. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+121 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    26049

  274. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+177 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17875

  275. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+266 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2350

  276. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+133 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17003

  277. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+785 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11525

  278. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+752 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2784

  279. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+239 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22087

  280. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+696 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    25687

  281. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+938 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    27817

  282. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+680 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3318

  283. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+541 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    29911

  284. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+338 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    30049

  285. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+309 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17837

  286. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+850 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14481

  287. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+477 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7576

  288. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+184 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17505

  289. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+397 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22624

  290. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+128 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14781

  291. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+556 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14338

  292. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+477 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19717

  293. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+489 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    15571

  294. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+096 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4771

  295. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+293 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    27969

  296. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+369 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7572

  297. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+343 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    21867

  298. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+276 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    28163

  299. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+287 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19009

  300. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+901 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11086

  301. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+932 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10957

  302. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+929 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    30514

  303. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+867 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2119

  304. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+675 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    27017

  305. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+768 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    255

  306. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+822 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14454

  307. IANA...Lawyer? Asshole? Retarded-Person?? by deander2 · · Score: -1, Offtopic


    I Am Not A (what?!?)

    had to read it twice before i realized it wasn't a typo... ;)

  308. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+900 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    15840

  309. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+519 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    25516

  310. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+199 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    25566

  311. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+382 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8053

  312. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+039 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20911

  313. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+906 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7932

  314. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+572 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10867

  315. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+810 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    25434

  316. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+602 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    21939

  317. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+198 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19930

  318. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+321 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14707

  319. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+827 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14596

  320. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+782 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12970

  321. Okay, seriously... by este · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Can someone kick CLIT in his digital balls and quiet him up? I am vehemently against suppression of freedom of speech, but conversely I think people have a right not to listen, especially if the material is potentially offensive. Slashdot provides a discussion forum for users to discuss thier reactions to other user's posts. That's great, and I love it. Let's keep it that way. ::este::

    --
    [este]
    1. Re:Okay, seriously... by govtcheez · · Score: -1, Offtopic

      Read the user names again - it's some script that generates a lot of different names and posts with them. You do have the freedom not to read it. Don't click the link. Personally, I find it hilarious, but that's just me.

    2. Re:Okay, seriously... by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1

      It would be hilarious if it were a different story each time. But repeatedly posting the same story over'n'over, sheesh! After the fourth or fifth time, I just can't get excited enough to wank again. ;-)

  322. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+361 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14732

  323. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+031 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22851

  324. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+603 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22760

  325. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+496 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14008

  326. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+061 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    976

  327. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+201 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5275

  328. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+967 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    24356

  329. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+578 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    413

  330. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+737 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10432

  331. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+445 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4806

  332. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+973 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22915

  333. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+918 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23171

  334. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+952 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5878

  335. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+823 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3229

  336. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+491 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19230

  337. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+589 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2475

  338. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+761 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    28727

  339. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+070 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4908

  340. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+518 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22902

  341. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+109 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4928

  342. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+157 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13368

  343. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+535 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19576

  344. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+479 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    24822

  345. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+237 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    25223

  346. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+090 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5332

  347. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+885 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23681

  348. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+631 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    29752

  349. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+368 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14704

  350. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+730 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11821

  351. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+215 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11170

  352. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+610 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5041

  353. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+327 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11935

  354. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+053 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    27800

  355. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+539 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    26598

  356. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+962 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6026

  357. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+243 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10075

  358. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+176 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10993

  359. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+315 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    28682

  360. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+841 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    23600

  361. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+238 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8736

  362. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+919 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19719

  363. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+230 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    1814

  364. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+075 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    27375

  365. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+840 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    1509

  366. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+377 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    11966

  367. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+523 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    29930

  368. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+890 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5969

  369. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+314 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    18153

  370. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+935 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12980

  371. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+089 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13830

  372. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+983 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13121

  373. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+930 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16424

  374. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+069 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16455

  375. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+439 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12507

  376. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+416 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    1835

  377. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+007 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3746

  378. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+159 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16089

  379. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+098 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13745

  380. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+950 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7193

  381. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+588 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10151

  382. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+108 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6840

  383. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+769 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5488

  384. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+140 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3270

  385. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+795 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16966

  386. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+797 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    5476

  387. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+946 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17151

  388. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+170 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    26147

  389. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+844 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14384

  390. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+281 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    1319

  391. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+746 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14424

  392. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+693 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7354

  393. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+998 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    19149

  394. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+659 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    15997

  395. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+798 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2308

  396. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+399 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16190

  397. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+234 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    1739

  398. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+944 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13119

  399. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+621 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    7252

  400. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+154 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17460

  401. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+814 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    4893

  402. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+353 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    9788

  403. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+488 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17007

  404. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+571 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2580

  405. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+247 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8819

  406. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+062 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    14068

  407. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+138 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13900

  408. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+285 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6794

  409. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+916 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    6974

  410. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+461 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    2417

  411. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+425 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13225

  412. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+981 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    24100

  413. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+741 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    20993

  414. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+680 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    28538

  415. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+670 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8957

  416. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+063 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    10414

  417. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+013 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    13688

  418. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+097 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    24413

  419. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+223 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16908

  420. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+316 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16550

  421. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+836 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    17236

  422. I think it's funny - Waste a mod point by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1

    On this post too...

  423. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+219 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    1061

  424. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+323 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    21349

  425. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+756 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8806

  426. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+338 · · Score: -1

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    8299

  427. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+143 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    22505

  428. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+232 · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    12608

  429. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+100 · · Score: -1, Redundant

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    3071

  430. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+848 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    16085

  431. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+602 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    28798

  432. Death By A Thousand CLITs!! by CLIT+Drone+No.+314 · · Score: -1, Troll

    Happy Troll Tuesday! The CLIT will rise again.

    When I think of dirty old men, I think of Ike Thomas and when I think about Ike I get a hard on that won't quit.

    Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.

    Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white under the brim of his battered felt fedora.

    He did nott chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.

    Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me. ÒIke Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game.

    I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."

    "Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men. . ."

    "I'll bet you do."

    ". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.

    "I though we were talking about. . ."

    "You like jumping old men's peckers?"

    I shook my head.

    "I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."

    That summer of1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.

    Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as browwn as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his hightop work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.

    "Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then stuck it out far enough that the tip could touch the tip of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."

    "People do that?"

    He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"

    "I never. . ."

    "Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."

    "No way."

    "Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."

    "Why would I do that?"

    "Curiousity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."

    "I'm no queer."

    "Now don't be getting judgemental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't beiing queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a handside the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."

    I swallowed, hard.

    Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"

    ***

    We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."

    I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.

    "Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.

    He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"

    I looked away.

    "You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"

    I shook my head.

    "Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."

    Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.

    "Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.

    I tried not to look interested.

    "Yer sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.

    "What if somebody walks in?"

    Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."

    I glanccd over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"

    "I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "I t sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."

    I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.

    "You like checking out this old man's cock?"

    I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.

    "Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expandingshaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."

    I shook my head.

    "Maybe I Ôll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"

    I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.

    He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set Ôem free. Now let's see yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.

    "I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.

    Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."

    I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.

    "Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.

    I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.

    "Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"

    I shook my head.

    "Cause Ikeep excerising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."

    "Some sayyou'll go blind if you do that too much."

    "Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been puling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."

    I laughed.

    "You laughing at my little peter, boy?"

    "Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.

    "I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.

    "I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."

    "Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"

    "Your head?"

    "No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"

    "I don't think so."

    "That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."

    "We shouldn't be talking like this."

    "C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"

    "I reckon," I confessed.

    "You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.

    "My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."

    "How'd that come about?"

    He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."

    "What did your grandpa do?"

    "He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma Ôwouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."

    "Did you want to join him."

    "I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."

    "I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is somethng I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on fromall this talk, son?"

    I nodded and looked away.

    "Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."

    "We shouldn't."

    "Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."

    I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.

    Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."

    In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiositythat needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .

    "C'mon let's see it all."

    I shook my head.

    "You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."

    I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to ajust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.

    Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."

    I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.

    Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"

    I shook my head.

    The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.

    I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.

    Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."

    He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaing drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle foming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.

    ***

    "Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.

    I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.

    "Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.

    I shook my head in denial.

    "Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."

    I stared at his caloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.

    "Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"

    "Almost seven inches. . ." I stuttered. "Last time I measured."

    "And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."

    "I don't do. . ."

    "Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.

    Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."

    "A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"

    "I don't think so."

    "What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging Ôtween your skinny legs?"

    "It's not for showing off."

    "That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?

    "It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree whan I was seven.

    "There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.

    I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.

    "Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"

    "Nineteen almost twenty."

    You ever fucked a woman?"

    "No."

    "Ever fucked a man?"

    "Of course not.

    "Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass. "I didn't know men did that to each other."

    "Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."

    "You've done that?"

    "I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a fewhard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."

    "I think that would hurt."

    "First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.

    I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.

    "We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."

    He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.

    "Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and graypubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.

    I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.

    Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."

    I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't. . ."

    "C'mon, boy. Show Ike your peckeer. I'm betting it's nice and hard."

    I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."

    "That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."

    "We really shouldn't. . ."

    "Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."

    "I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.

    "Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."

    "I don't know about that," I said.

    Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"

    I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.

    "Well boy, I'd sayyou're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."

    I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.

    Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.

    "I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."

    "You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"

    "I thought about it a lot."

    "Ever see him with a hard-on."

    "I told you about that!"

    "Ever think about him doing your grandma?"

    "I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.

    "Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.

    "Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."

    "If you say so."

    "Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"

    "You wouldn't."

    Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."

    And that is what he proceded to do. He sucked me dry.

    Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and procede to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."

    ***

    The following day, We skipped the peliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.

    "C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.

    Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accomodate you."

    "Are you sure you want to do this?"

    "Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."

    "It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."

    ""It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."

    I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."

    "I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."

    "Are you ready," I asked.

    "How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"

    "It's real tight."

    "Tighter than your fist?"

    "Might be."

    "Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."

    "I reckon."

    "I want you should do old Ike one more favor."

    "What?"

    While you're pumpin my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"

    I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back amd then pulled it up and over the expaded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.

    "C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"

    I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.

    "A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."

    Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.

    I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.

    15086

  433. Re: cliches by roxy-skya · · Score: 2, Funny

    With clients in professional sports and the executive suite, Frank Lingua, President and CEO of Dissembling Associates, is the nation's leading purveyor of buzzwords, catchphrases and clichés for clients too busy to speak in plain English. Here he is interviewed in his New York City office...

    Q. Is it a full-time job being a cliché expert?

    A. Bottom line is I have a full plate 24/7.

    Q. How do you know if you're successful in your work?

    A. At the end of the day, it's all about robust, world-class solutions.

    Q. Where do most clichés come from?
    A. Stakeholders push the envelope until it's outside the box.

    Q. Is it hard to keep up with the seemingly endless supply of clichés that spew from business?
    A. Some days, I don't have the bandwidth. It's like drinking from a fire hose.

    Q. Do people notice that you're a cliché expert?
    A. No, they can't get their arms around that. But they aren't incented to, and benchmarking the metrics is a challenge.

    Q. Is it hard to keep up on all the new clichés?
    A. Harder than nailing Jell-O to the wall.

    Q. How do you keep track of all the clichés?
    A. It's like herding cats. I walk the walk and talk the talk.

    Q. Can you anticipate if a phrase is going to become a cliché?
    A. Yes. I skate to where the puck's going to be. Because if you aren't the lead dog, you're not providing a customer-centric pro-active solution.

    Q. Give us a new cliché that we'll be hearing ad nauseum.
    A. Enronitis could be a next-generation player.

    Q. Did incomprehensibility come naturally to you?
    A. I wasn't wired that way, but it became mission-critical as I strategically focused on my go-forward plan.

    Q. Is your work difficult?
    A. It isn't rocket science. It isn't brain surgery. When you drill down to the granular level, it's basic blocking and tackling.

    Q. How do you stay ahead of others in the buzzword industry?
    A. Net-net, my value proposition is based on maximizing synergies and being first to market with a leveraged, value-added deliverable. That's the opportunity space on a level playing field.

    Q. Does everyone in business eventually devolve into mouthing the sort of mindless drivel you spout?
    A. If you walk like a duck and talk like a duck, you're a duck. They all drink the Kool-Aid.

    Q. Do you read "Dilbert" in the newspaper?
    A. My knowledge base is deselective of fiber media.

    Q. Does that mean "no"?
    A. Negative.

    Q. DOES THAT MEAN "NO"?
    A. Let's take your issues offline.

    END

  434. not surprisingly by pahpabut · · Score: -1, Troll
    DoC leaning on someone means U.S. government is leaning on someone to gain more control. Just like the Iraqi thingy.

    It's time to DISCONNECT U.S.A FROM EVERYTHING

    270 million trolls and five billion spamtrolls and one Titney Wears can't be wrong. Since U.S.A is going about fucking things up all over it is time to fuck it up the ass and say fuck it - you outta here! So let's cut all the sea cables to and fro, nuke the country out of existance, put ignorefilters on and just define it never existed in the first place. The rest will sort itself out.

    What is there to gain from having U.S. around anyways? Let's see what it hath broughten the World:
    McDonalds, the land of the free fat.
    Hilary Rosen, who gives hilarious a bad name.
    George Bush, the missing link between ape and homo sapiens.
    Microsoft, What's the Bug today?
    Will Smith, hear Winston Churchill moan in his tomb.
    FP! So self-explanatory

    if DoDoD or whhu'eva now wanna control Internet they can bloody well get their own little playground to dote with, at a safe distance from SANE, SECURE and PROPERLY BUREAUCRATICATED networks of the rest of the world. It's not like Canada is anything like U.S. anyways. right?

    Geez, it's not even possible to get a proper coffee in that godforsaken piece of country that calls itself the freest nation on earth.

    BASTA!!

  435. Does Slashdot... by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1

    Need to incorporate the "image" style of the security test so llama's like CLIT cannot automate registration? Or maybe just cut off registration all together.

  436. history DOD funded internet Ra and D.. by linuxislandsucks · · Score: 4, Funny

    History lesson DoD funded internet devlopement..

    our master want us back under control..

    I guess they figured out that they cannot nuke everyone :)

    --
    Don't Tread on OpenSource
  437. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by goldspider · · Score: 0, Offtopic
    Yup, and they go limp at the very thought of enforcing its own resolutions.

    Also, not to mention the fact that 60% of their member nations are controlled by dictartorships.

    Two words: impotent, hypocritical.

    --
    "Ask not what your country can do for you." --John F. Kennedy
  438. Nerd thug says: stop this nonsense by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1

    Is there any way to stop this gerontophiliac gay story to be posted over and over? I mean, this IS Slashdot, and there are dupes all the time, but this one is not even interesting, or even related to nerd stuff.

    Admittedly nerds don't get much (any?) sex, but that does not mean they are gay...

    In any case, a nerd thug like me don't like to see crap like this posted :)

    Biatch-slappin' geek

  439. Attention Mr. Moderator guy by SweetAndSourJesus · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    You are a moron for wasting your point modding down a post scored at 0. There are a few hundred trolls posted at 1 here. Did you somehow not notice these?

    --

    --
    the strongest word is still the word "free"
  440. No Moderation? by boinger · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    At my I-don't-really-care comment browsing of 2+, I only see 8 of 444 comments. Is there no moderation today?

    --
    Send your friends messages of love at fuck-you.org
    1. Re:No Moderation? by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0, Informative

      Try reading at -1 and you'll get the answer. *doh*

  441. stop that by jumbie · · Score: -1

    whoa!
    "you've warped my tiny fragile little mind" you bastards!

  442. It would be tragic... by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1

    ...if the IP address of that f***ing CLIT Drone were to 'accidentally' get posted. I hope that nobody is that irresponsible.

    1. Re:It would be tragic... by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      He has 1000 accounts all trolling through proxies. Hence the title.

    2. Re:It would be tragic... by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      http://goatse.info/story/2003/2/11/143154/728

      How to Defeat Humanconf

      Slashdot uses a system called 'humanconf' to ensure in certain situations (account registration, for example) that an actual human is sending a request, as opposed to a bot or script. Fortunately, Slashbots let the OSS community at large do so much thinking for them, they can be easily and effectively simulated with a small amount of code. Read on.

    3. Re:It would be tragic... by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      fuck that this shit is hilarious.

      hooray for the CLIT

      man, these editors are stupid fucks.

  443. status by pahpabut · · Score: -1
    considering the satisfyingly low comment quality (3 at 3, 8 at 2 out of 442 atm), isn't it about time to start thinking about a different posting-policy for stories? I mean, if there is nothing to a story that sparks intelligent replies the obvious conclusions are that either the story itself is bad working material for replies or that the users mainly suck.

    evidently users will suck to a certain degree nonetheless but the idea of having a community based on post-reply-retortwar is pretty much meaningless if there is nothing but tripe in the end, wouldn't you say?

    question: what does community slashdot value-add to humanity by and large in its current form and usage?

    1. Re:status by pahpabut · · Score: 0

      although undefined in the post, I am of course indexing moderators at 0, neither additive nor punitive to the quality of the posts.

  444. Comment removed by account_deleted · · Score: 2, Insightful

    Comment removed based on user account deletion

  445. Gone... by zjbs14 · · Score: -1, Offtopic
    Looks like someone mass-modded them down to -1:

    418 replies beneath your current threshold.

    --
    No sig, sorry.
  446. UN lol, they could pass a resolution by BoomerSooner · · Score: 1

    They could pass a resolution, but doing something about it wouldn't happen.

    If they cannot stand behind their votes they need to disband. The UN is a fucking joke.

  447. HOORAY FOR THE CLIT! by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1

    I am sad to see that the CLIT was beaten by a cowardly attack from the spineless editors! Register some more, comrade!

    1. Re:HOORAY FOR THE CLIT! by linuxislandsucks · · Score: -1, Offtopic

      go play with Kevin Mitnicks website if you are not inept

      --
      Don't Tread on OpenSource
    2. Re:HOORAY FOR THE CLIT! by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1

      Kevin Mitnick ate my balls!

  448. who gets control? by Blue+Bat+Poo · · Score: 0, Flamebait

    would you rather verisign gets control of everything, and sell your name and contact information, and charge you extortionate amounts of money, or have an independent government sponsored organization run it?

    all you pale skinned paranoia freaks would choose the first option, because government running things is EVIL.

    i will take option number two, and go outside and live a life.

  449. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    Rather than plunging ahead without even the full agreement of their allies. Way to go, guys!

  450. Offtopic: Is /. filtering on keywords now? by Anonymous Coward · · Score: -1, Offtopic

    With heroic anonimity, I posted this a couple of minutes ago, and was immediately modded to the bottom of the list. Either there are some moderators out there who are really on the ball, or some automatic filter kicked in (I included the 'C' word). This post isn't worth wasting mod points on. I still think that assholes IP should be posted though (yeah, I know it will probably change).

  451. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by onta · · Score: 5, Insightful

    The problem that makes the UN impotent is not the fact that many countries are ruled by dictators (the idea behind the UN is to be a forum for *all* countries, not just democracies).

    One of the biggest problems is the US's behaviour. For years the US refused to pay its quota, and has only paid its debt with the UN when they wanted something from it.

    US's respect for UN resolutions is not very good either, and the UN does not have the capability of enforcing the resolutions, that's just impossible. Just two examples here:

    • There was a UN resolution telling Israel to move out of the occupied territories. Israel has obviously not moved out, and while many countries have said it should, the US just lets Israel do whatever they want.
    • Last november the UN said Iraq should disarm and sent inspectors, now the US wants a resolution that will allow them to attack Iraq, there's nothing wrong with asking for a resolution, except that Bush said he would only follow the resolution if it said what he wanted.

    Now, how could the UN be useful if the single most powerful and influent nation in the world does not want to know anything about it, except if it is for its own benefit??

  452. Earth to DoC by SubtleNuance · · Score: 5, Informative

    That is very interesting news considering This article at The Register . The article talks about how Eurpoean top-level registries take over the technical task of running the Internet if ICANN cannot be relied upon to do a proper job -- because ICANN cannot seperate their Political machinations from the technical aspects of the DNS.

    A good example would be ICANN's desire to create a artifical scarcity of TLDs to maintain 'value in the namespace'...

    1. Re:Earth to DoC by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      The submission did provide a link to that article... You didn't even read that?

  453. (OT) Re:UN lol, they could pass a resolution by plugger · · Score: 1

    The UN is a fucking joke.

    It's supposed to be a place where concerns can be aired and listened to. Every time a government questions the wisom of what is happening, all we hear from the White House is "this institution is in danger of becoming irrelevant.". They said it about the UN, now they're saying it about NATO. The message is very clear, do as we wish, or be deemed irrelevant. The current US administration does not seem to consider any other nation to be a peer, they are classed as either 'allies', 'enemies' or irrelevant nuisances to be brushed aside. There is a lot of goodwill being burned right now.

    1. Re:(OT) Re:UN lol, they could pass a resolution by swordgeek · · Score: 1

      Bah. Don't bother with the smelly little troll. Let him crawl back into his biometrically-secured bunker, and wait for the rest of the world to forget about him.

      I only have one issue with your post. I'm not sure the US has had all that much goodwill since the late-1950s. Even so, George W. certainly is burning it as fast as he can.

      --

      "People who do stupid things with hazardous materials often die." -- Jim Davidson on alt.folklore.urban
    2. Re:(OT) Re:UN lol, they could pass a resolution by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      The current US administration does not seem to consider any other nation to be a peer, they are classed as either 'allies', 'enemies' or irrelevant nuisances to be brushed aside.

      Hardly something unique to the current US government. Considering the first time the US government appears to have put a country in the latter catagory was in the 1890's.
      Nor is the US policy of getting rid of the governments of "enemies" and "irrelevant nuisances" to be replaced with (hopefully) something friendly to the US government. (Though less likely to be friendly to either the citizens of that country or any visiting US citizens...)
      Whilst the US government may now be doing things in public and inventing new terms things are very much "business as usual". (The same "business as usual" which lead to the events one September morning.)
      The reason the US government has it in for Saddam Hussain is that he started out as a US backed dictator who subsequently decided he was nobody's puppet.

  454. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by gorilla · · Score: 3, Insightful

    I think it's a mistake to think of "the UN". The UN is really a loose grouping of many related organizations. UNESCO and UNHCR are very different to the Security Council and the General Assembly.

  455. Uhmmmmmm.... by unicorn · · Score: 1

    Did it cross your mind that once the large corporations were fully funding ICANN, they would likely assume that if they aren't financially dependent on public funding, then they should be allowed carte blanche to arrange things entirely to their convenience, without any lip service towards the public.

    --
    "Politicians are interested in people. Not that this is always a virtue. Fleas are interested in dogs." P.J. O'Rourke
    1. Re:Uhmmmmmm.... by Elwood+P+Dowd · · Score: 1

      They are already allowed carte blanche to arrange things entirely to their convenience, and they pay no lip service to the public.

      If ICANN were no longer a government funded body, and could only recommend standards to their participants, then we'd have nothing to argue over. It'd be like the IETF. The only people that the members of the IETF answer to is their own customers, right?

      I mean, if you want your own TLD, you are free to set up your own root server, right? ICANN can't take you to court, can they? If you want Verisign to pay lip service to the public, the public will have to stop giving their money to Verisign.

      --

      There are no trails. There are no trees out here.
    2. Re:Uhmmmmmm.... by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      I don't get the comparison. IETF is a talk shop that performs no administrative functions (except maybe give out MACs). It's not like you can run a DNS server with a stack of recommendations.

  456. Comment removed by account_deleted · · Score: 1, Interesting

    Comment removed based on user account deletion

  457. I Wish ... by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 1, Insightful

    that Jon Postel was still with us. Then, something like this wouldn't have happened.

  458. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by Narcissus · · Score: 0, Offtopic
    Two words: impotent, hypocritical.

    Unlike the US, who only get one word: arrogant. I really do hope that the attitude displayed above is not that felt for the rest of the US, otherwise things are worse than I assumed.

    We hear George W saying that he will attack Iraq, UN be damned, but also tells us that the US cannot afford to rebuild the country after the attack, and that we are going to have to help out.

    Screw that. We don't want an attack on Iraq, 'cause we can see what's really going on. Do you really think that Iraq's "weapons of mass destruction" would hurt the US? They don't have the missiles to launch to the States, and so will really only be effective around the Arab nations.

    Iraq has been crippled by economic sanctions (thanks to the USA) and to add insult to injury, they're going in again! For God's sake, the original Gulf War was a joke to begin with: what makes the US believe that they can come in and solve century old disputes because they are who they are?

    North Korea is practically taunting the world with their nuclear capabilities, with no doubt of their abilities to strike America, and what happens? Your fearless president decides to negotiate? Did I hear that right? Everywhere else in the world, that's called "Double Standards". Apparently in the US, it's known as "diplomatic efforts".

    So why the difference in attitude? It's obvious to everyone in the world, and I assumed that it would be obvious from where you stand.

    Take a look at your economy: reaching debt limits faster than you can increase them, and introducing a "budget" while the last one still hasn't been completely passed yet!

    The Euro and gold looks set to become the new currency reserve, and all of a sudden the US dollar doesn't have it's absolute power, and the US economy has to work like every other one. Don't think the US dollar's losing control? No country with the Euro needs it, and together they have more citizens and buying power than the US.

    Should I go on? No. Why? Because as with everything, no-one will ever change their point of view on something like this.

    But all I see is a guy in the White House saying to the UN "Give us an answer, and if we don't like it, you can all go to hell. Oh by the way, you'll pick up the tab, right?"

    The only difference between the dictators in these member nations is that they aren't trying to dictate other countries.

  459. And in other news... by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 3, Funny

    To better reflect its changing mission and increasing scope, the company ICANN (Internet Corporation for Assigned Names and Numbers) has changed its name UCANT (Universal Controller of All Network Traffic).
    --
    Propz to the dead tuesday nighterz.

  460. Yah... by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    And so they start blocking those proxys and eventually the poor little crap flooders and trolls like you run out of places to troll and crap from.

    Besides, you are the one who is doing them.

  461. Linux///???? by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    Linux solves everything, it is answer to Doc Linux Extend Icann's Linux Control of Inaaa Linux!

    Mods Love Linux, don't Linux mod Linux down Linux.

  462. Comment removed by account_deleted · · Score: 1

    Comment removed based on user account deletion

  463. Linux//????// by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    Incase you didn't linux noice my linux first linux///?????//// post linux to this linux story since linux you are so linux fucking linux stupid linux here is a linuxother.

    If they where linux running linux they whouldn't be linux having tehse proplems because linux linux solves every thing by its coefficent kernal tux linux fork RMS tld Icann't.

  464. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0, Offtopic

    There was a UN resolution telling Israel to move out of the occupied territories. Israel has obviously not moved out, and while many countries have said it should, the US just lets Israel do whatever they want.

    Please read the resolution. Security Council resoluton 242 does call for:

    "Withdrawal of Israeli armed forces from territories occupied in the recent conflict"

    but it also calls for:

    "Termination of all claims or states of belligerency and respect for and acknowledgement of the sovereignty, territorial integrity and political independence of every State in the area"

    The resolution also put equal weight on these 2 principles. The Arabs are still at war with Israel and refuse to make peace, so Israel hasn't withdrawn from the territories.

    (Yes, Egypt and Jordan are at peace with Israel, but they're the only ones)

  465. It would be good by mindstrm · · Score: 2, Insightful

    for everyone to always remember, that icann, or any other number or name registry only gets any power because people choose to use it as a reference. I can set up an IP network of any size I like, and address it however I like, and anyone else joining up with me is free to do what they want as well.

    I'm not saying "we can just ignore icann.. let's have anarchy..".. but, ultimately, if they go too far, the major backbone providers can simply ignore them. As long as we all play off roughly the same page, stuff will still work just fine.

  466. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by onta · · Score: 1

    Although both principles do have equal weight, the second is impossible without the first one, "acknnowledgement of the sovereignity and territorial integrity" of __all__ states in the area cannot be accomplished until Israel moves out of the Palestinian territories. How could the Palestinians not be at war against a country which is occupying its territory?? Both principles have equal weight, but one cannot happen without the other happening first.

    Also, you should check this resolution from the General Assembly, stating among other things that Israel must:

    • Withdraw from the Palestinian territory occupied since 1967, including Jerusalem
    • Dismantling the Israeli settlements in the territories occupied since 1967

    138 countries voted in favor of that resolution, only two countries voted against it... guess who: Israel and the United States

    Of course the Palestinians must not be at war against Israel... but only when Israel leaves _their_ country.

  467. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by arkanes · · Score: 2, Interesting

    On the other hand, Israel refuses to move out of the occupied territories, so the Arab nations won't make peace. Lets face it, there's no angels on either side here. Part of the flack is because Israel is often painted as the oppressed nation surrounded by enemies (an image not without merit), and the Arabs as the warmongering renegade nations, but Israel isn't really doing alot to be pro-active about peace in the Middle East either.

  468. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by poot_rootbeer · · Score: 2, Insightful

    Because god knows the UN has proven to be a wise organization, capable of managing almost all the worlds affairs. Preserving peace, etc.

    Hmm... how many World Wars were there before the United Nations? Two?

    And how many have there been since? None... (yet)

  469. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    On the other hand, Israel refuses to move out of the occupied territories, so the Arab nations won't make peace. Lets face it, there's no angels on either side here. Part of the flack is because Israel is often painted as the oppressed nation surrounded by enemies (an image not without merit), and the Arabs as the warmongering renegade nations, but Israel isn't really doing alot to be pro-active about peace in the Middle East either.

    Funny you say that. After they lost the 1967 war, the Arab nations got together in Khartoum, Sudan, and declared, "three NOs."

    1. No peace with Israel
    2. No recognition of Israel
    3. No negotiations with Israel

    Aside from Egypt and Jordan, that policy continues to this day.

  470. The DNS system is already being abused. by Bert64 · · Score: 1

    Take .GOV and .MIL domains for example, why should the usa keep these for themselves? if they want domains for exclusive use by their own government, they should use gov.us and mil.us, just like every other country is.
    The .gov and .mil domains should be either available to legitimate governmental bodies in any country, or split into subdomains according to country (eg .us.gov .de.gov etc)
    Why should the usa get 3 top level domains for it`s exclusive use? dont other countries deserve identical treatment?

    --
    http://spamdecoy.net - free throwaway anonymous email - avoid spam!
    1. Re:The DNS system is already being abused. by Dynedain · · Score: 1

      because the internet grew out of a US education and government developed network....duh....and .gov, .mil, and .edu are too entrenched to be given up for general use

      oh, and .us isn't really used by the US government, in fact, if i remember correctly they were trying to sell it off recently

      --
      I'm out of my mind right now, but feel free to leave a message.....
    2. Re:The DNS system is already being abused. by Bert64 · · Score: 1

      Actually .edu is offered for use by any recognised educational institution, not necessarily those in the usa, check www.tu-varna.edu for instance.

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    3. Re:The DNS system is already being abused. by nathanm · · Score: 2, Informative
      Take .GOV and .MIL domains for example, why should the usa keep these for themselves?
      Because the .mil TLD is the reason the Internet exists in the first place. ARPANET was a project under the DOD, a US government department (hence the .gov TLD).

      if they want domains for exclusive use by their own government, they should use gov.us and mil.us, just like every other country is.
      They should just be thankful they're allowed their own namespace.

      The .gov and .mil domains should be either available to legitimate governmental bodies in any country, or split into subdomains according to country (eg .us.gov .de.gov etc)
      Why change now? The present system is working fine.

      Why should the usa get 3 top level domains for it`s exclusive use? dont other countries deserve identical treatment?
      No. If they expend the resources to invent a separate global computer network, then they can administer the domains any way they please.
    4. Re:The DNS system is already being abused. by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      But that isn't a REASON.

      Go back far enough, and the USA is British. Should UK government be in there too?

      He asked "why should the US get TLDs to itself?". You haven't answered it, and everyone I ever hear try to respond has said the same you have.

    5. Re:The DNS system is already being abused. by Bert64 · · Score: 1

      The present system may work, but it is unfair. Using black people as slaves worked too, and it too was not fair, just because something works doesnt mean it cant be done in a better way.
      We, non americans, should be greatfull we get a third of the number of TLD`s you do? Maybe the black slaves should have been greatfull to get a third of the priveleges their white masters enjoyed, but I dont think any black man would agree to that.
      As someone else has already pointed out, the US government only exists because of european, mostly british, colonization/invasion (depending which way you look at it)
      As i understand it, the original RFC stated that gov/mil/com/net/org were global TLD`s for use by all countries (.int came later)
      Also, the URL http://www.nic.gov/help_rfc2146.html - a paper published by the US government suggests that government domains should be migrated under .fed.us (federal government of the us - makes sense no?) To quote:
      "This document anticipates the migration of the .GOV domain into the FED.US domain, in keeping with common practice on the Internet today."

      You will also find that ARPANET predates dns by some years, and i`m pretty sure non american countries were linked in long before dns became widespread.
      You also can`t say the usa created a global network, they created an american network which other countries linked to, i severely doubt the us government setup any of the network infrastructure in other countries.

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    6. Re:The DNS system is already being abused. by nathanm · · Score: 0
      The present system may work, but it is unfair. Using black people as slaves worked too, and it too was not fair, just because something works doesnt mean it cant be done in a better way.
      We, non americans, should be greatfull we get a third of the number of TLD`s you do? Maybe the black slaves should have been greatfull to get a third of the priveleges their white masters enjoyed, but I dont think any black man would agree to that.
      That is a terrible analogy! Any way you look at it, slavery is immoral.

      DNS is simply a system for making it easier to address computers, so people don't have to remember a bunch of numbers.

      Comparing the two is absolutely ludicrous.

      As someone else has already pointed out, the US government only exists because of european, mostly british, colonization/invasion (depending which way you look at it)
      That's not telling the whole story though. The US government was formed not because of, but as a reaction to, the tyrannical (at that time) British government.

      As i understand it, the original RFC stated that gov/mil/com/net/org were global TLD`s for use by all countries (.int came later)
      I don't know, I haven't looked into it. But, I know how the present system works in practice.

      Also, the URL http://www.nic.gov/help_rfc2146.html - a paper published by the US government suggests that government domains should be migrated under .fed.us (federal government of the us - makes sense no?) To quote: "This document anticipates the migration of the .GOV domain into the FED.US domain, in keeping with common practice on the Internet today."
      What it anticipated wasn't very widespread. Besides, if you finish reading the RFC, it nowhere suggests the .gov TLD would be opened to non-US governments.

      You will also find that ARPANET predates dns by some years, and i`m pretty sure non american countries were linked in long before dns became widespread.
      That's my whole point. It was a US network to begin with, and others linked to it. Since they're linking to our network, and not the other way around, they'll have to follow our rules.

      You also can`t say the usa created a global network, they created an american network which other countries linked to, i severely doubt the us government setup any of the network infrastructure in other countries.
      Actually, much of the infrastructure was developed by the US. Most of the undersea telecommunications cables were laid by the US. Also, our overseas military bases were probably linked before their host countries were in many cases.
    7. Re:The DNS system is already being abused. by nathanm · · Score: 0
      But that isn't a REASON.
      Sure it is. The status quo works fine in this case, so there needs to be a very compelling reason to change it.

      Go back far enough, and the USA is British. Should UK government be in there too?
      The USA was never British. There were 13 British colonies here at one time, but they fought a war against the British, declared their independence, then formed the USA.

      He asked "why should the US get TLDs to itself?". You haven't answered it, and everyone I ever hear try to respond has said the same you have.
      Anyone can create as many TLDs as they want, if they create their own DNS. Some people have done precisely that, see the links under this same article for OpenNIC. However, if they want to use TLDs under the original, US started & funded DNS, they'll have to play by our rules.
    8. Re:The DNS system is already being abused. by Bert64 · · Score: 1

      Slavery may not be the best analogy, but it makes the point... that just because something works, doesnt mean there is no reason to change it.
      Your attitude is very widespread among americans, the "we own the world" attitude, when in reality you dont even rightfully own the land your standing on. Do you advocate the taking of land by force? or are only americans and their friends allowed to do this... and when "inferior" races such as the iraqi`s decide to invade countries such as kuwait, it should be blocked. It is this attitude that fosters such hatred for the usa in nations around the world, not just afghanistan and iraq.. but many more who keep silent out of fear more than anything else. It is the american government that is among the most corrupt in the world, for different reasons than countries such as iraq, but just as corrupt. The usa just has a larger number of dictators, working together to line their own pockets, Iraq is an oil rich country... it wouldn`t surprise me to learn that the war against iraq is designed to install a more business-friendly government that will allow american business to profit from the oil reserves of iraq, businesses such as those george bush is tied to.
      Back to the subject at hand tho, even tho the internet started life in the US, other countries have invested large amounts of money in the infrastructure since, ESPECIALLY in the EU, in some places of the EU internet access is more widespread than in the usa nowadays, and i read somewhere about european users outnumbering american users.
      I`m sure many technologies which americans take for granted nowadays were invented in other countries, Just look at the popularity of various technological items from japan. I bet the computer your using right now has many components produced in asian countries, would it be fair if cutting edge technology was sold only to asians, and americans got last years leftovers? Japanese and european cars are also very popular in america, and often regarded as being superior to american cars, Would you be happy if they said "We made these cars, you should be gratefull we let you drive our 20yr old skoda`s atall"

      --
      http://spamdecoy.net - free throwaway anonymous email - avoid spam!
    9. Re:The DNS system is already being abused. by nathanm · · Score: 0
      Slavery may not be the best analogy, but it makes the point... that just because something works, doesnt mean there is no reason to change it.
      No, slavery is not at all analogue to this situation. Change for the sake of change is never good, and many times very bad. Only change for the better is good.

      Your attitude is very widespread among americans, the "we own the world" attitude, when in reality you dont even rightfully own the land your standing on.
      I don't hold any thoughts that we own the world, and neither do most Americans. When you get right down to it, there isn't a single location in the world where any people rightfully own the land they're currently occupying. If you go far enough back into history, you'll find a period when it changed hands in less than ideal conditions. I don't know where you're from, but I'm sure there are plenty of examples from there also.

      Do you advocate the taking of land by force? or are only americans and their friends allowed to do this...
      No, and I don't think it should be allowed to anyone. Most of America wasn't taken by force, but by treaty. I agree many of the treaties were in bad faith, but they're over 100 years old. Since then we haven't really acquired more territory. Europe can't say the same thing (although they've given most of it up by now).

      and when "inferior" races such as the iraqi`s decide to invade countries such as kuwait, it should be blocked.
      Maybe you're a racist, but I believe there is only one race: the human race. When Iraq invaded Kuwait in 1990 and raped, murdered, pillaged, and burned the country, we rightfully perceived a threat to our national security and ejected them from Kuwait. Unfortunately we left the job unfinished.

      It is this attitude that fosters such hatred for the usa in nations around the world, not just afghanistan and iraq.. but many more who keep silent out of fear more than anything else.
      That's funny, the people of Afghanistan and Iraq don't hate the US. Many places have a love-hate relationship with us, they want what we have: freedom and opportunity, but think we're decadent and immoral.

      It is the american government that is among the most corrupt in the world, for different reasons than countries such as iraq, but just as corrupt. The usa just has a larger number of dictators, working together to line their own pockets, Iraq is an oil rich country...
      I'll be the first to admit I don't trust most of our elected officials, but that's the whole point. If we don't like them, we can remove them in the next election. Many people in the world have little or no choice in who governs their country. Here in the US, we are sure to let the politicians know who they work for, the people. But America isn't even close to being the most corrupt. Most of our government's operation is open and public.

      it wouldn`t surprise me to learn that the war against iraq is designed to install a more business-friendly government that will allow american business to profit from the oil reserves of iraq, businesses such as those george bush is tied to.
      Right, spending $100 billion on a war and $40 billion on rebuilding the country for a few barrels of oil makes a lot of economic sense. We import a much larger share of our oil from Venezuela, but we're not getting involved with their current problems. If this were really about oil, we'd be going after Venezuela first.

      Back to the subject at hand tho, even tho the internet started life in the US, other countries have invested large amounts of money in the infrastructure since, ESPECIALLY in the EU, in some places of the EU internet access is more widespread than in the usa nowadays, and i read somewhere about european users outnumbering american users.
      So? They're perfectly able to start their own, competing DNS. Internet connectivity may be rising in Europe, but not anywhere nearly as fast as in Asia. South Korea is the most connected country in the world, with over half the population online, and the largest percentage with broadband access too.

      I`m sure many technologies which americans take for granted nowadays were invented in other countries, Just look at the popularity of various technological items from japan. I bet the computer your using right now has many components produced in asian countries, would it be fair if cutting edge technology was sold only to asians, and americans got last years leftovers?
      There isn't much current technology invented completely outside the US. However, some foresighted people in Asia realized they could produce semi-conductors and other computer parts more cheaply than the US or elsewhere. That's one of the benefits of globalization. Their countries don't have much in the way of natural resources, but they're as capable as any other, and have proved more capable than most, to manufacture and assemble finished products.

      Japanese and european cars are also very popular in america, and often regarded as being superior to american cars, Would you be happy if they said "We made these cars, you should be gratefull we let you drive our 20yr old skoda`s atall"
      Yes, Asian cars are popular for their value and European cars are considered prestigious. However, many of these cars are manufactured and assembled right here in the US. They may be superior in some aspects, but that's a very subjective, personal opinion. Different people like different cars better.
    10. Re:The DNS system is already being abused. by Bert64 · · Score: 1

      But the $140 billion you speak of is the state`s money, and not the politicians.... if they embezzled such a large amount of money people would kick up a fuss, so instead they spend other peoples money to make sure they make their own in the future.

      Your right about asia, which furthur proves that the internet is now a truly global network which should be equal for all.

      There are competing dns services, but as with anything.. if it doesn`t have large amounts of money behind it, then it will never become popular with the masses, furthurmore it would defeat the purpose of the internet - a free network that`s open to all. If certain sites were available only to users of a given dns service, then it would segment the internet, and it is also this isolation that will prevent competing dns services from gaining a foothold - it's useless until theres a critical mass of users, but there will never be a critical mass of users because people will percieve it as useless.

      Cars will often be assembled close to their target market for reasons of cost, it isn`t cheap to ship thousands of cars over from japan.

      As for this myth that citizens have any real power over the government, consider this..
      In order to effect a change you have to spread the word, not only this but you have to shout your views louder than the politicians your trying to get rid of.. But remember that propoganda COSTS MONEY... and those established politicians are the ones who both have money, and are in a good position to make more. Those who are already in positions of power will do everything in their power to maintain the status quo, that is, power and money for them, and the wool pulled over the eyes of everyone else. Remember being elected is not about who has the best views, it`s about who has the best marketting. Look at Adolf Hitler and all the nazi propoganda, designed to promote the nazi`s as the superior race and to turn the german people against the jews. Propoganda WORKS, but propoganda costs MONEY, and those who have large enough sums of money are the same people in league with the existing politicians, scratching each other`s backs.
      There was a good quote i heard once, it reads like this:
      There is only one party to vote for, the status quo party, It comes in 2 colors to keep the masses happy, but it`s really just the same dirty shade of brown underneath.

      --
      http://spamdecoy.net - free throwaway anonymous email - avoid spam!
  471. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    How could the Palestinians not be at war against a country which is occupying its territory

    The Palestinians were at war with Israel even when Israel wasn't occupying it's "territory".

    Strangely enough, the Palestinians weren't at war with Egypt, Jordan and Syria when they were "occupying it's territory," from 1948-1967.

    After the Allies won World War II, the Allies occupied Germany and Japan, until Germany and Japan agreed to live in peace, which they did. Today, it's ridiculous to think that Germany and Japan would start a war.

    Also, you should check this resolution from the General Assembly, stating among other things that Israel must:

    There's quite a bit of difference between Security Council resolutions and General Assembly resolitons. Like the difference between municpal parking laws and laws against armed robbery.

    Of course the Palestinians must not be at war against Israel... but only when Israel leaves _their_ country

    Read Hamas literature. They want the complete destruction of Israel, under all circumstances, no ifs, ands or buts. Many other Palestinian groups believe the same thing.

  472. DNS by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    I think that the current system of global TLDs (.com, .edu, .etc) should be dumped and every countru issued a cc domain which they decide how to run. I know we invented the Internet but it really has grown beyond what could be considered our rightfull control.

    If they ever get IPv6 up and running a large block of IP address (based on pop?) could be assigned to each country to dole out as they see fit.

    1. Re:DNS by unitron · · Score: 1
      "I think that the current system of global TLDs (.com, .edu, .etc) should be dumped ..."

      Not only that, but URLs should have the domain listed first and then the website (which is a subset of the domain), so that you'd have something like ...us.com.chrysler

      --

      I see even classic Slashdot is now pretty much unusable on dial up anymore.

  473. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by onta · · Score: 1

    There's quite a bit of difference between Security Council resolutions and General Assembly resolitons. Like the difference between municpal parking laws and laws against armed robbery.

    My point was simply to show the behaviour of Israel and the US, it doesn't matter where they voted that, it just shows their way of dealing with those that get in their way.

    Read Hamas literature. They want the complete destruction of Israel, under all circumstances, no ifs, ands or buts. Many other Palestinian groups believe the same thing.

    And most other Palestinian groups do not believe the same thing, what's your point?

    Also, Israel is a rich country, with one of the most powerful armies in the world, and backed by the US, the most powerful country in the world. Palestinians are mostly refugees who do not even control their water resources (Israel does), most of them live in complete misery, and their territory is occupied by Israel. Israel can go an buy all shorts of weapons from any country they want, Palestinians can't legally form an army. I could go on...

    I'm not saying I agree or like everything the Palestinians do, of course I disapprove suicide bombers. But under those conditions I really can understand why they hate Israel.

    I really see no way Israel's position can stand any analysis, they are simply occupying other people's land. Only when they go away they'll have the right to complain if they get attacked.

  474. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    I really see no way Israel's position can stand any analysis, they are simply occupying other people's land.

    They are "occupying other people's land" as a result of a war started by those "other people" which is still ongoing. The "other people" still refuse to live in peace.

    And even when Israel wasn't "occupying other people's land" attacks were a regular occurance. The PLO wasn't formed in 1967, but 1964, before the "occupation."

    Only when they go away they'll have the right to complain if they get attacked.

    They'll have the right to complain if attacked? That's nice. What about all the dead bodies? The right to complain is useful, but I prefer the right to live.

  475. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    what the hell is the parent doing at +5?

    i changed to this threshold to avoid that old ike shit and i get this offtopic bullshit??

    seriously, moderators, learn to do your jobs.

  476. WAY OT: Re:UN lol, they could pass a resolution by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    Hmm. So refusing to bend over and take it up the ass from the U.S.fucking-A. is a "fucking joke?"

    If you want a joke, look at George W. Bush, known to the rest of the world as 'Hitler jr:' a racist, ignorant, lying, two-faced, hate-filled warmonger with a severe inferiority complex. He probably gets that from not being able to win the election without cheating.

    The UN is following their mandate. The UN is living up to the spirit and letter of their already fairly extreme resolutions. It's the USA, under the iron fist of GWB that is repeatedly changing the terms and then ignoring them, all while trying to threaten and bomb his way to "peace."

    Oh, and as a point of reference, I'm a fairly politically neutral citizen of one of your three closest allies. Even your closest global friends won't put up with your country's shite much longer.

    1. Re:WAY OT: Re:UN lol, they could pass a resolution by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

      If you want a joke, look at George W. Bush, known to the rest of the world as 'Hitler jr:' a racist, ignorant, lying, two-faced, hate-filled warmonger with a severe inferiority complex. He probably gets that from not being able to win the election without cheating.

      Or even from his grandfather...

      The UN is following their mandate. The UN is living up to the spirit and letter of their already fairly extreme resolutions. It's the USA, under the iron fist of GWB that is repeatedly changing the terms and then ignoring them, all while trying to threaten and bomb his way to "peace."

      Repeatedly moving the goal posts is what Iraq complained about when they invited the inspectors back last summer. Not that they ever kicked the UN inspecters out in the first place.

      Oh, and as a point of reference, I'm a fairly politically neutral citizen of one of your three closest allies.

      Three governments, maybe... There dosn't appear to be a country on the planet (including the one between Mexico and Canada) where the citizenship is backing the US government.

  477. 434 comments below your threshold by Pompatus · · Score: 0, Offtopic

    I know this is offtopic, but I just HAD to see why I only saw 63 comments with 434 below my threshold. I found out after setting threshold to -1. I sacraficed myself for the greater good of the slashdot community. THRESHOLD AT 1, EVERYONE!!!! You don't wanna see it. It's not pretty.

    --

    ----
    Squirrel ... It's not just for breakfast anymore
  478. Now's a very good time again.... by dacarr · · Score: 1
    ...to advertise for OpenNIC!

    Or, you can just go here and log in if you're already a member. (If not, see the first link and learn how to resolve the second one.)

    --
    This sig no verb.
  479. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by Ironpoint · · Score: 1


    The UN is a half deflated beach ball with a brick inside. That brick is the U.S.

    A lot of people hate the U.N. because, "oh look, other countries have different opinions, goals, and interests than us." Those people are made of dense bricklike material. I saw a piece of propaganda in the paper today that was called Get US Out! These idiots want influence over other countries, but how is destroying the U.N. supposed to accomplish that.

    Nuts want to rule the world but don't even know why.

  480. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    After they lost the 1967 war, the Arab nations got together in Khartoum, Sudan, and declared, "three NOs."

    1. No peace with Israel
    2. No recognition of Israel
    3. No negotiations with Israel


    Didn't the allies decide something similar after the Nazis occupied most of Europe...
    How many nations do you think would be happy with a neighbour being taken over by a group of beligerant foreigners?

  481. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    They are "occupying other people's land" as a result of a war started by those "other people" which is still ongoing. The "other people" still refuse to live in peace.

    Guess those "other people" must have enguaged in mass suicide in 1947. It's kind of hard to live in peace with well armed people who want you evicted from the place your ancestors have lived for hundreds of years.

    And even when Israel wasn't "occupying other people's land" attacks were a regular occurance.

    Modern Israel has always been "occupying other people's land". Even leaving aside questions over the legitimacy of the UN partition scheme (which is very questionable), when Israel made it's UDI the territory it occupied included land the UN had designated as for the "Arab state".

    The PLO wasn't formed in 1967, but 1964, before the "occupation."

    The Zionists were busy stiring up trouble in the 1920s. The initial Zionist "land grab" was in 1947.

  482. Re:Good idea... bordering on brilliant by Anonymous Coward · · Score: 0

    The problem that makes the UN impotent is not the fact that many countries are ruled by dictators (the idea behind the UN is to be a forum for *all* countries, not just democracies)

    Quite a few dictatorships only came into existance/continue to exist through having another country acting as "patron" anyway. It wasn't that long ago that Saddam Hussain had the full support of the US.

    * There was a UN resolution telling Israel to move out of the occupied territories. Israel has obviously not moved out, and while many countries have said it should, the US just lets Israel do whatever they want.

    Which one? US policy on US resolutions against Israel is to veto any which actually have teeth and ignore any which don't.

  483. NAVEWEiSS: i AM SO SEXY AND i LOVE MYSELF! HUG ME! by NaveWeiss · · Score: 1

    Hi! It's me, The fabulous NaveWeiss.

    As you all know, I love myself.. so love me do.
    Bye.

    --
    Slashdot community, please notice: I am looking for a girlfriend.
    Nave H. Weiss